Devotion
by azure feathers
Summary: Suzaku's take on the end of Final Turn. M for blood, just to be safe. Last episode of R2 spoiler


Devotion

**A/N: Again, HUGE spoiler for the end of R2. A warning.  
Also, I just finished the series so I'm still all emotional about it.**

...

"Zero?"

All eyes turn toward the lone figure striding up the hill. Before me sprawls a procession of Knightmares, all heading towards the place where countless people will be executed for going against the Emperor of Britannia's will. The hate hanging in the air is almost tangible, suffocating me beneath my mask.

It dissipates as I approach. Replacing it is the low hum of thousands of mouths, the same string of consonants rolling off every tongue. Who is he? People look from their Emperor, their dictator, to me, the imposter, with confusion. Even through the growing panic, though, I can feel a new emotion fill the air: hope.

All the requirements are met. Just as you said, Lelouch.

I vault over his defenses easily. Of course I do; he intended it to be so. I meet a little more resistance when I reach Jeremiah, but even he is easy to subdue. Soon I stand before the Emperor, and from my coat sounds the clang of metal sliding from its sheath. The sword is purple and the stones set in its hilt glint in the sunlight, arousing an intake of breath from the crowd lining the sides of the road. I feel I can hear their hearts beating, quickening; millions of chairs creak as the world leans towards their television sets to gawk at the man who dared don the costume of the fallen idol, Zero.

The white-clad figure rises slowly from his seat, his purple eyes scanning the costume that was once his before meeting my own. And for one agonizing moment, his gaze is sincere. In it lies all the pain and hurt he has suffered, the torture of bearing the world's hate on his shoulders. For that millisecond he is Lelouch, and I am Suzaku, and we are friends again.

A tear trickles down my cheek.

Then he is the Emperor, and he smiles at me challengingly, knowingly. Like this is all part of his master plan, and he has some sort of backup that will spring into action. One of his famous, genius twists that saved him again and again. _You are a fool to think I will die here,_ it says, and the world he has created believes him. That is the way he shaped them to be.

As the tip of my sword touches his chest, my eyes spill over. The stream is steady now, fat tears trailing down my neck and losing themselves in the cloth on my collarbone. Soaking me to the skin.

This is for Japan, for all the people who've died for you, for everyone who has ever screamed your name in anguish. This is for Britannia, for everyone who's ever suffered under your iron fist, for all who are forced to obey your every order. This is for the world that has fallen to your command, as helpless as a newborn baby.

The Great Emperor of Britannia makes a small, defeated sound and red floods his robes, an awful crimson that I have to avert my eyes from. I push as deep as I can, faking triumph– I was never as good at lying as Lelouch. I'm thankful for the dome shielding my face, or my bluff would be open to everyone. Now I'm suppressing my sobs with all my might; it takes every ounce of my will to keep my arms from shaking. Lelouch's face is getting pale, and the stench of his blood taints the air around me. I almost gag.

This is for me, too. For the world of my dreams, one governed by a kinder Britannia that acts out of interest for the people instead of for its ruler's selfish desires. For all of my friends who died so that I could achieve it. For a future.

_Do not shoot unless you are prepared to be shot._

I withdraw the sword with a little effort, gasping when Lelouch's arms go around me and his voice fills my ears. One blood-drenched hand caresses my masked face, and his own fills my vision. In his eyes, beneath the pain and fear, lies the glint of victory. He has won, and the only other person who will ever know is his assassin. Only to us is this an embrace, a final goodbye between best friends. In this instant we are one step closer to our dream, the one we have shared from the beginning, though our steps to get there differed. This is the easiest and most difficult thing I have ever done.

Because most of all, Lelouch, this is for you. For the leader who will go down in history for his slaughter and enslavement of billions, who deceived everyone he'd ever known and loved without batting an eyelash, who couldn't have hesitated if he tried. For the man who threw his life away for people he didn't know, who bore the world's hate on his shoulders so that I might rid the world of it, who is still smiling at me as I stab him with as much force as I can muster. For the school boy who was prepared to be shot since the very beginning.

Lelouch's hand slips from my face, leaving an ugly smear. His lips part again but no sound emerges. His eyes are dim. Then he is falling, flipping once before sliding down the ramp gracelessly. His sister throws herself onto him with a gutteral cry, and the world erupts around me. Lelouch whispers something into Nunally's ear, something not quite complete, and his eyes grow unfocused.

He dies.

Everyone is talking at once now; guards are either fleeing or fighting the crowd spilling out from every side, coming up to meet their hero. Their savior. I can hardly hear them now; my head is screaming. Begging me to wake up from this cruel dream. Desperately I want to run away, to cry until there's nothing left, but instead I stand before them proudly. Zero is victorious.

"Is that–" a familiar voice sounds to my left, and I turn my head. He is interrupted.

"It's Zero!" Kallen's own voice rings loud and clear. It is a tone one simply cannot argue with.

As the voices grow around me, chanting for this new, mysterious Zero, I can only think one thing.

Maybe, Lelouch, just maybe it was always for you.

...


End file.
